


Hopping down the bunny trail

by zaynandlouis



Category: Big Brother RPF
Genre: Crack, Exhibitionism, M/M, Sex Toys, Sexting, all mentioned none rlly performed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:27:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2600270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaynandlouis/pseuds/zaynandlouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"they let you move in with me under the impression you wanted to be in new york for more television opportunities and that we’re just friends. we have more sex toys than you’ve had hosting gigs," frankie snorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hopping down the bunny trail

**Author's Note:**

> um, weird vulgar crack fic. my favorite kind of fic. 
> 
> zach's parents come to town.
> 
> thank you to amanda for helping me come up with the idea for this fic (and pretty much every scene in it) and thank you for being my beta. title is from peter cottontail lmao.

zach sits up, groggily rubbing his eyes.

frankie watches him, walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. he walks over to the bed and crawls over him, whispering “daddy’s here.”

zach’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. 

"what? my dad’s here? in your apartment? in new york? with us? in your apartment?" he panics, nearly throwing frankie off him trying to untangle the sheets from his legs and tug them up to cover the rest of him. "why didn’t you tell him to wait in the car!" 

frankie almost falls off the bed on his own, from laughing. he makes a quick save and stands up. 

"your dad’s not here, dummy," he laughs again when he sees zach relax.

he walks over to the dresser and digs around for some underwear. he rolls his eyes when he has to push zach’s three-sizes-too-big undies out of the way. 

"my parents _are_ supposed to come up, by the way," zach tells him, relieved that his dad’s not in frankie’s apartment while he’s butt naked in frankie’s bed. 

it’s frankie’s eyes’ turn to bulge. “excuse me?” he turns and faces zach, who’s still rubbing at his eyes and yawning, before continuing, “when?”

"today, i think," zach shrugs.

"you _think_?" frankie retorts, gritting his teeth and coming to sit on the edge of the bed. "kitten," he starts, taking a deep breath, "what kind of you think is this? like, you think they might come up today, or tomorrow, or in a week, or you know they’re going to be here within the hour?" 

"um," zach glances over at the alarm clock, "like, their flight landed a couple minutes ago.."

 

* * *

 

"they got a cab right? oh god, zach, what if they didn’t get a cab and we’re not there to pick them up. they’re gonna think i made you stay home so i could like, suck your dick, or something," frankie rambles, busying around the apartment, trying to clean up an imaginary mess. 

zach smirks, leaning back in his seat on the couch and putting a hand behind his head. “they got a cab, but they’re not due in for a good twenty minutes. so, you like, totally have time to suck my dick.”

frankie gives him a death glare.

laughing, zach puts his arms out and beckons frankie over. frankie begrudgingly drops himself into zach’s lap.

he lets zach run his hands up and down his back, soothing and constant. it only takes a few seconds for him to melt into zach’s chest, zach kissing the top of his head when he does. 

"it’s not like you haven’t met them before, babe. they did let me move in with you, remember. it’ll be fine," he assures. 

"they let you move in with me under the impression you wanted to be in new york for more television opportunities and that we’re just friends. we have more sex toys than you’ve had hosting gigs," frankie snorts. 

zach counts up their sex toys and his hosting gigs in his head. as of last week when frankie decided he couldn’t live any longer without seeing zach with a bunny tail plug in, they do indeed have more sex toys than zach has had hosting gigs. that would be depressing, if he didn’t like wiggling his bunny tail so much. 

 

* * *

 

"so, you guys can crash in the spare bedroom. the bathroom’s right across the hall," zach tells her, walking her down the hallway.

"spare bedroom?" jill repeats hesitantly. 

"yeah, it’s like, _right_ across from the bathroom," he assures. 

jill gives him a pointed look and lets out a deep breath. “zachary, you told me this was a two bedroom apartment.”

zach nods, motioning between the guest bedroom and his and frankie’s room farther down the hall. “yup, it is.”

she shakes her head in disbelief.

"your father and i do not pay for you to sleep on a couch, young man."

zach thinks his mom kind of looks like a dragon with her nostrils all flared like that. he’s not sure what she’s so upset about, but he feels a talking-to coming that he would really like to avoid. 

"i don’t sleep on the couch, i sleep in the other bedroom," zach explains.

"then does frankie sleep on the couch?"

"no, he sleeps in the other bedroom. this is the guest bedroom."

his mother’s nostrils flair even more and he’s never noticed how big her nostrils are before. they’re quite large, and he’s starting to imagine her with a dragon tail.

"is there anything you’d like to tell me, zachary?" jill questions, raising an eyebrow.

"oh yeah," zach nods, "the little temperature letters on the fixtures in the shower are on backwards."

 

* * *

 

"psst."

"psssssst."

"pssssssssssssst. zach."

"zachary."

zach’s eyes scan the bottom of the stalls. he spots wedged sneakers in the stall second from last on the right. 

"frankie..?"

"get your ass in here," frankie hisses. zach can see one of his feet tapping under the stall door. 

zach dries his hands and hesitantly walks to the stall frankie is in. he knocks on the door.

"oh, for god’s sake," frankie grumbles, swinging the door open and pulling zach into the stall with him.

"frankie," zach giggles, fidgeting to adjust to the small space. "we’re in a museum bathroom, and we’re at the museum with my parents. we can’t do stuff."

frankie can’t help but roll his eyes. he hates himself. he is literally in love with a child.

"i don’t want to do _stuff_ , honey. i want to talk."

"oh, what about?" 

"your dad."

"my..? my dad?" zach questions, confused as to why him and frankie are having a conversation about his father in a cramped museum bathroom stall while his parents wait on them. 

"yes. he wants to, he wants to, get.." frankie inhales sharply, "he wants to get dinner with me."

"did my dad ask you on a date?" 

frankie sighs. 

"you’re honestly ridiculous," he stresses, "he asked me to go with him to get dinner for all of us when we get back to the apartment."

"that’s.. you told him new york has like, food delivery, right?" zach asks, puzzled.

"yes," frankie hisses, "i think he wants to spend, like, quality time with me, or something."

"that’s.." zach starts to grin, "actually really nice."

"nice? it’s nice your father wants to get me alone so he can commit a hate crime? i don’t want to die. i’m still so young."

zach mouth pulls to one side and he raises an eyebrow.

"i don’t look a day over twenty. shut up."

"mhm."

"you’re the one dating an old man. you’re like, a pedophile chaser." 

"c’mon, frankie. pleassseeee," zach begs, interrupting their banter.

"don’t, zachary," frankie warns. "don’t you fucking _dare_ give me the puppy dog eyes."

zach gives him the puppy dog eyes. 

"i hate you, so much."

 

* * *

 

"so, since frankie and dad are getting dinner, i figured we could pick a movie to watch after we eat," zach suggests, looking up from his phone that already has a ‘save me’ text notification from frankie. 

jill nods. “sure, honey. that sounds nice.”

"cool. i think the remote’s in ou-, uh, my room," zach stutters. "i’ll be right back," he calls as he makes his way down the hall.

jill eyes zach’s phone that he left on the counter, noticing he hadn’t locked it.

zach is twenty four. no twenty four year old boy wants his mother going through his phone, jill thinks.

he did leave it unlocked, though.

and would he even notice if she did go through it? 

the screen dims and she panics. she runs over and taps it. it lights up again.

she scans the screen for the message icon quickly and opens it. ignoring the heart emojis beside frankie’s contact name, she opens their conversation.

the first message she sees is from frankie, from today, just a few minutes ago. 

_"is ur dad going to give me the talk? i think ur dad is going to give me the talk. i’m 2 old 4 dis"_

she scrolls up, trying to keep her face from contorting in distaste.

_"i want to fuckkk uuuuu"_

_"i want you to fuckkk me"_

_"can’t eat u out with ur mom around ur too loud"_

_"oops :P maybe i can eat you out"_

_"oooo daddy"_

jill doesn’t exactly understand how one eats out a male, but she’s sure she doesn’t want to.

_"jerked it on the bathroom at rehearsals. i hate myself"_

_"did you think about me"_

_"thought about ur tight ass"_

_"love you"_

_"love u more"_

jill really never needed, nor wanted, to know about the tautness of her son’s ass. 

_"think ur mom could hear a vibrator through the wall?"_

_"probably :("_

_"we’re sound proofing before she’s allowed back"_

jill’s never, ever coming back. 

zach’s voice drifts from the hallway, “okay, so, we have netflix, but if you want to watch…” 

jill throws the phone down, trying to act like she hasn’t just seen hell. 

 

* * *

 

 

"he literally just asked me to let you bring tiger. i hate him. i hate you. i hate tiger. i was literally about to have a heart attack. and he just wants us to take your puppy. as if we need to have a whole discussion about a puppy. i’m going to cry," frankie babbles, actually looking like he might tear up. 

"aw. i’m sorry you got so stressed out, babe," zach attempts to comfort. he’s too pumped about tiger coming to live with them to be very good at it, though. he pulls frankie into his chest and starts patting his back so he won’t see his smile and get mad.  

"it was traumatic," frankie affirms into the crook of zach’s neck, sighing. 

zach continues patting frankie’s back. not rubbing, but patting, and it’s not comforting. it’s awkward. it’s making frankie angry.

"i’m not a child, zach. you can’t burp me," he huffs, wrestling to sit up in zach’s lap. he’s exhausted. zach’s parents are exhausting people. he’s so glad his own mother is the modern day equivalent of debbie novotny. jill and kevin are the kinney’s. 

"sorry, again," zach’s interrupted by a hiccup from frankie. "ha!" he scoffs, "i just burped you, bitch."  

"shut the fuck up," frankie hiccups between the ‘u’ and the ‘p’ and slumps his shoulders in defeat. "i only have the hiccups because your father is a mean, mean man, brian."

"brian?" 

frankie rolls his eyes at zach’s lack of knowledge of iconic queer television. for someone who begs to be fucked like twice a week, he’s still so straight. they need to work on that. 

"nevermind."

zach shrugs. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he suggests, rubbing up and down frankie’s thighs. 

"your parents are still here," frankie reminds him, but still wraps his arms around zach’s neck and bares his own for zach to mouth at. 

"can you not be quiet?" zach teases, running his hands under the back of frankie’s shirt. 

frankie groans.

 

* * *

 

"well, this was a nice trip," jill comments, squeezing hand cream into her palm.  

"yes, very nice," kevin agrees. 

"i think i’ll call peyton," she tells him.

_"have you been a good boy?"_

"oh, zach must be on the phone with him already. i’ll wait a bit," jill shrugs. 

kevin clears his throat. “i believe that was frankie speaking, dear.” 

"oh."

_"oh fuck, yes, yes."_

kevin clears his throat again. 

"did you bring any cross word puzzles with you?" jill asks him, turning to face him in the bed. 

"i think so. they’re in the duffle, if i did," he apprises her, looking up from his book.

_"c’mon, i’m ready. hurry the fuck up."_

"found them." 

"oh, good."

_"yeah, good boy. take it so good."_

"i think tiger will really like it here," jill remarks. 

"yes," kevin nods, "frankie assured me they’d take him on a walk at least once a day. he said it’s not too hard to get to central park from here." 

_"god, frankie, harder. harder."_

"that’s nice," jill smiles weakly. "that a good book?"

"oh, yes. i’m not very far in, but so far so good."

_"so good, fuck."_

"i think i’m done for tonight, though," kevin continues, closing his book and setting it on the bed-side table.

"well, i guess we better turn in," jill mutters, turning off the lamp on her side of the bed. kevin does the same and they tuck under the covers. 

"goodnight, honey."

"goodnight."

_"i’m gonna cum."_

 

* * *

 

"thank you for having us, boys. we had a.. wonderful time," kevin smiles, big and fake, "it was nice seeing you again, frankie."

frankie nods and goes in for a hug as kevin goes in for a handshake. neither end up happening. 

there’s an awkward silence and zach rocks on his heels. 

"so.." he tries.

"well, we better be going. don’t want to miss our flight!" jill exclaims. 

"yeah! it was nice seeing you guys. call me when you land," zach tells them, hugging them both.

jill and kevin are never, _ever_ coming back. 


End file.
